for whom the belled toes
by chaos8
Summary: a nursery-rhyme-inspired story featuring death, despair, a little boy and a rocking horse... please read...


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ride a cock-horse to banbury cross  
to see a fine lady upon a white horse  
with rings on her fingers and bells on her toes  
she shall have music wherever she goes.

- mother goose

sometimes when children came to the orphanage, the loss of their parents gave them nightmares and they cried in their sleep until the nurse on night-shift came over and comforted them. timothy had never known his father, and his mother died of untreated pnuemonia when he was two years old, so he'd lived at the orphanage for the past five years. in all that time, he had never had a bad dream. in fact, he had never had a dream at all.

during the day, timothy was a pleasure to have around. he was always helpful and obedient towards the nurses, and he never fought with the other children. indeed, he often broke up the fights of others. although he was only seven, the way he acted made him seem at least twelve. his eyes were always bright and shining, and he was never seen without a smile on his face.

and then one monday morning the fat lady came. it was not at all unusual for rich ladies to visit the orphanage and croon over the children, and give them presents, and leave with lighter consciences, feeling as if they had done a good deed; it was not even terribly unusual for said ladies to be rather large - after all, they were quite well-fed. but this lady who arrived on this monday morning was different, somehow. she was quite tall, and quite fat, and her unkempt hair was exactly the same shade as her shapeless, unflattering dress - a black like the inside of one's eyelids when one has fallen down a chimney and gotten soot in the eyes - a stinging, painful blacker than black. she brought a gift, a beautiful brown rocking horse.

timothy did not see the lady arrive. he was in the playroom, making a house of cards with another boy. the head nurse showed the lady into the playroom, where the rocking horse would be kept. as she always did, the nurse asked the lady, "is this a general gift to all of the children, or would you like to give it to one child in particular?"

the fat lady scanned the room with her cold eyes. she watched as timothy stood on his tiptoes and carefully added another card to the house. cautiously he moved his hand away and stepped back, holding his breath. the house stayed up. laughing and clapping, he reached for another card. the lady pointed a pudgy finger at timothy. "him," she said. suddenly the house of cards collapsed. the lady turned and stalked out the door. the startled nurse ran after her, but when she reached the door the lady was nowhere to be seen.

back in the playroom, the rocking horse had moved to the corner, unnoticed.

the next morning, timothy did not wake up when the bell rang for breakfast. the nurse, being soft-hearted, let him sleep late. when the noon bell rang and timothy still hadn't awakened, the nurse began to worry. gingerly, she felt his forehead with the back of her hand. "oh, my, you're burning up!" she cried out, pulling her hand away. timothy, sound asleep, did not respond. wringing her hands, the nurse hurried out of the room to fetch a doctor.

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timothy was standing alone in the playroom. he didn't have the foggiest idea how he'd gotten there, or where everyone else was. the lights didn't seem to be working properly; they were very dim and often flickered. one window was open, and it was midday outside but the sun did not seem to shine into the room. most of the toys were put away into their cupboards and onto their shelves, but there was a rocking horse in the corner of the room. it was very new looking, and the combination of that and the way it's brown coat shone in the dim light made it stand out from the other toys. noticing it, timothy moved closer…

the doctor frowned as he put away his thermometer. "he appears to have the scarlet fever," he told the nurse. "you'd better put him in quarantine before any of the other children catch it."

the nurse, still wringing her hands, said fretfully, "oh, of course. but i don't understand how he could have come down with it so quickly…"

the doctor shrugged. "sometimes these things happen." he put on his hat and coat and picked up his bag. "i'll prescribe a medicine and be back with it as soon as possible."

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in the dark playroom, timothy sat on the rocking horse. the only sound was the quiet scrape of the horse rocking on the wooden floor. suddenly timothy sat very still and quiet. he thought he had heard something.

there it was again, the faint sound of a horse whickering. timothy leaned forwards and looked at the horse's wooden head. it's yarn mane hung limply against it's neck, it's painted grin seemed to laugh at some private joke of its own. and as timothy stared, one of it's painted eyes winked at him.

the horse began to rock by itself. as it rocked, it moved forwards, across the room, out the door, and right out of the orphanage.

the nurse decided it was safer to move the entire bed with timothy in it into the spare room, rather than carry them separately. gently she and two other nurses rolled the bed down the hallway, trying not to awaken its passenger. timothy rolled over in his sleep.

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timothy was sure that through the playroom windows it had been sunny outside, but the sky was overcast and threatening as the rocking horse carried him down the street. nervously clinging to the horse's mane, timothy wondered where they were going. he soon found out; the horse turned into a dead-end alley and stopped at the brick wall that ended it. on the wall, someone had drawn a funny, knottish-looking thing with charcoal. looking closer, timothy realized it was a barb, like those that can be found on barbed wire.

suddenly the horse pitched forwards. timothy reached out and steadied himself against the wall. as he drew his hand away again he realized that he'd placed it on the barbed symbol drawn on the wall.

the wind blew bitterly, making timothy shiver. with a terrible scraping, rasping noise, like the cry of a dying rattlesnake, the fat lady appeared. timothy recognized her from the glimpse he'd caught of her as she left the playroom, but she was even uglier seeming now. her black hair hung in greasy strands around her face, and her drab dress emphasized the rolls about her middle. on her chubby hand she wore an iron ring with a barb instead of a gemstone. her several chins jiggled as she sneered at timothy. "yes?" she asked in a voice like rotting flesh.

timothy did not know how to respond. clearly she expected him to say something, though, so finally he cleared his throat and gave the only explanation he could – "the horse brought me here."

"of course," said the fat lady, "what do you think i gave him to you for?"

"you gave him to me?" asked timothy bewildered.

"yes. he's yours now, for the rest of your life. which probably won't be long. would you like to see?"

before timothy could say "no," a vision popped up in front of his eyes. it was him, lying wasted in a hospital bed. his eyes were sunken hollows and his breath rasped painfully as he breathed. nobody stood by his bed as he lay there dying.

"you have no family to pay for medicine or to stay with you," said the fat lady scornfully. "you're going to die all alone."

"no!" cried timothy. "i'm fine, i'm perfectly healthy. there's no way i could be so sick."

the fat lady laughed coldly, her flesh shaking. "i'm afraid the little girl who owned this rocking horse before you had the scarlet fever." she lifted up her hand and drew her ring finger slowly down her cheek as she spoke, leaving a trail of oozing blood. "she died last night."

terrified and repulsed, timothy screamed.

the doctor had returned with medicine for timothy, but the boy's jaw was so tightly clenched that nobody could force it open enough to get a spoonful in. the nurses and the doctor stood around the bed in a worried circle, unsure of what to do. the boy's sleep had gotten more and more restless as time had gone by, and now he was moving about so violently that they feared he would fall off of the bed. all of a sudden, the boy went rigidly still. the alarmed doctor reached out to take his pulse, expecting the worse. he jumped several feet in the air as timothy, still fast asleep, let out a scream of pure terror.

by the time anybody thought to stick the spoon of medicine in his open mouth, timothy had stopped screaming.

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still screaming, timothy grabbed the horse's mane and yanked it around, kicked the horse's flank, and sent it flying out of the alley. timothy finally ran out of air and quieted down. he jammed his eyes shut and just allowed the horse to run wherever it wanted. finally, after what felt like hours, the horse stopped and timothy cautiously opened his eyes. he half expected to be back in front of the grotesque lady in the alley, but he was not. instead, he was at a crossroads in a completely unfamiliar landscape. the horse had stopped in the exact center of the intersection and did not appear to be about to move again any time soon. still shaking, timothy got off the horse and took a look around. the four roads that converged here went on until the horizon, one to the north, one to the south, one to the east, and one to the west. there were no buildings or trees; the landscape was completely flat and nondescript in all directions. it reminded timothy of pictures he had seen of english moors in wintertime. the only thing taller than timothy was a nearby street sign. timothy wandered over to it, still feeling dazed and hopeless after the vision he'd had. the sign pointed in four directions, one for each road, but as timothy approached it, it began to spin around, and the four signs melted into just one. it was labeled simply "banbury." timothy frowned at it. "i wonder which road is banbury," he said to himself.

"none of them are. that's the name of the cross we're at," said a voice behind him.

it was nearing midnight. the children had all gone to bed, and the nurses and the doctor sat silently by timothy's bedside. with no medicine to help him, his condition had rapidly worsened. most of the nurses, not realizing the full seriousness of his condition, were sleeping in their chairs. one softly sang a lullabye and put a cool washcloth on timothy's head. the doctor silently prayed for a miracle, but did not really expect one.

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timothy whirled around and came face to face with a large, white horse. looking up, he saw that the rider was another lady. this one was very different than the first. she was tall and slim, with wind-blown black hair and laughing eyes. she wore a flattering black shirt fitted black pants, and a big silver ankh around her neck. she was looking back down at timothy and smiling kindly.

"hello," said timothy, remembering his manners.

"hello," said the girl.

"you're very pretty," blurted timothy, forgetting his manners. he blushed.

the girl laughed softly. her laugh sounded like muffled chimes. "thank you," she said, "you're very sweet."

the was a long silence. timothy and the girl studied each other. the girl wore several silver rings on each hand. her eyeliner had been done in a small spiral by her right eye, and she wore a black top hat. with one hand she held the white horse's reins; in the other she held a closed black umbrella.

eventually timothy spoke. "where are we?"

"banbury cross," the girl answered.

"well, yes. but where is banbury cross?"

"here."

timothy did not quite know what to say to that. "i think i'm lost," he finally said.

"would you like to go home to your mother?" the girl asked gently.

"my mother is dead," said timothy. the girl did not respond. after a moment the meaning of her words sunk in, and timothy whispered, staring at the ground, "oh."

there was another silence, this one more awkward than the first. the girl – death – looked down at timothy sadly. without raising his eyes, timothy said hopelessly, "the fat lady was right."

"oh – my sister," the girl's voice was full of disgust. "she isn't really right, you know. she only tells you those things to make you feel unloved and miserable."

timothy was shocked. the fat lady was this pretty lady's sister? impossible! but with the girl's words, a tiny spark of hope had entered his heart. "you mean –"

"no. but there are people by your bed, lots of them. lots of people love you, timothy."

"oh. great." the spark disappeared. strangely, though, timothy did feel better knowing that he was not alone after all.

"would you like to take a ride on my horse? you can hold the reins, if you want," death offered.

"yes," timothy answered. he climbed into the saddle in front of her and took the reins. the girl gently pushed her feet against the horse, urging it into a trot. as she did, there was a gentle jingling noise. timothy looked down and saw that she wore an anklet of tiny silver bells on each foot.

the horse started down the road to the north, but as it went it began to rise into the sky. down below, timothy could see the rocking horse nibbling at some weeds by the side of the road. suddenly the girl began to sing, very softly, a lullabye.

the doctor gave a heavy sigh. he hated to lose a patient, especially one so kind and caring… for the second time that day he put on his hat and coat, picked up his bag, and quietly left the mourning nurses.

nobody noticed the rocking horse quietly vanish from its corner in the playroom.

- LST


End file.
